by AJ Adams
Having Solitaire live with me like an equal partner, able to come and go as she pleased and to do what she liked, meant she’d see it all. I wasn’t sure if she could cope with that. She could tell herself that what I did to Escamilla was all right because he’d raped her, but it would be different if she saw me deal with someone she didn’t hate.
“Solitaire, can you accept my work, my life? Because I can’t change. I am what I am. And my business gets rough.”
“I know that, Arturo.” Solitaire paused and I could see she was coming to a decision. “There’s something you should know,” she said slowly. “When I had that accident at Escamilla’s, something funny happened. Well, not funny exactly. I lost my memory.”
“Yes, Kyle said.”
“Oh!” Solitaire was genuinely taken aback. “So how then can he be sure –?”
“You hate the cops. Even if you’ve forgotten why, the hatred goes deep. So deep that Kyle says you can’t bring yourself to work with them.”
“Well, he got that right,” Solitaire confided. “I think plod, and I instantly lose it.”
“How much do you remember?”
Solitaire shrugged. “Not much. When Kyle doped me up, I got some more back, but it’s like a dozen memories.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. I think I’m only getting the stuff that made a serious impression. Some of it’s funny, like being chased by a camel in the desert and watching some amazing double-jointed topless bint hang from a stripper pole and pour a martini with her toes.”
“That sounds like Night Flight in Moscow.”
Solitaire grinned. “Really? I wonder if I’ve been to Russia?”
I would have thought it would be terrifying not to know, but Solitaire didn’t seem that bothered.
“There’s some fun stuff, but most of what’s come back is dark,” she said thoughtfully, “like visiting mum in the hospital and being tasered by McKlutsky.”
“I’ll kill him!”
It came out instinctively. I don’t usually identify with people who aren’t family, but the thought of anyone hurting Solitaire made me mad.
“Killing a copper is dangerous,” Solitaire said judiciously. “But if you beat the crap out of him, that should be okay. The wanker set me up twice, and he deserves a good bashing. But do it when I’m around, please. I want to watch.”
Definitely a girl after my own heart. “Next time we’re in London, you get a ringside seat. Promise.”
Solitaire sighed. “From what I do remember, I decided that the system only works for the people in charge, so I now look after me and mine, and the rest of the world can go to hell. I do what I want, when I want, and I don’t give a damn about any laws.”
“See, I’ve found the perfect girl.”
My light answer cheered Solitaire up. “Right. I’ve been living on the sharp end, and what I want now is to belong. I need a home, a life and someone to share it with.” Those deep blue eyes were gazing into mine. “I like you, Arturo, and you like me. The sex works for us, and we’re both pretty hardnosed. So I’m asking: are you up for it?”
I hesitated, wondering if it would work. Then I thought about what life without Solitaire would be like. “Yes.” That answer came straight from the heart.
She was giving me an odd look. “You’re uncertain.”
“I know I want you.”
“All terms and conditions okay?”
It made me uneasy, but I could see I couldn’t have her without them. “All right.”
Solitaire was silent a moment and then she smiled. “I’m not saying it will be rainbows and roses,” she cautioned me. “I think I’m not the easiest person to be with.”
“I’m a prince, so we’ll be fine.”
“Arsehole!”
She was giggling, playfully punching my arm. At the sight of her laughing eyes, my breath caught in my throat. Now I had it all: beauty, brains and a sweet slut, all on a plate and all mine. For a moment I couldn’t believe it.
“What happens next?” Solitaire asked.
“I hear make-up sex is the best.”
Solitaire swallowed, tried to look cool and failed. “Would it involve that flogger you mentioned?”
Her voice sounded hoarse, and she was a little flushed. I could see those pierced nipples stand up underneath her top. Solitaire was excited. I could tell this was going to be fun.
“Been flogged before?”
“Don’t know.”
I was on the point of rolling her into the roses and having her. I didn’t, because I wanted our first time here to be superb. Yeah, romantic huh?
I stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Come and see my dungeon.”
My dungeon is very possibly my favourite place on earth. It’s only accessible via a lift to my bedroom upstairs. My private world has scarlet and black walls, black flooring and no windows. I’ve everything from a St Andrew’s cross to my very own rack, and the ceiling is rigged with anchor points for the sex swing and ropes. The lighting varies from bright white to red to purple spots. And of course it’s soundproof. Apart from the playroom, there’s a prison cell, a bedroom with a massive custom-made bed with a mirror on the ceiling, and a bathroom with a sunken bath.
You could live down here if you wanted to. In fact, I had a girl from China about three months ago, Ying-tai, who arrived, went down to the dungeon and didn’t surface until her ten days were up. Except for the man on the gate, nobody saw her come in, and nobody realised she was here. Luz, my housekeeper, might have noticed some extra supper dishes, but it’s doubtful. It’s just as well I’m not a serial killer; I’ve got the perfect set-up.
Solitaire took one look and swallowed. “Jesus, I don’t know if this is a nightmare or a dream.”
I did something I rarely do. “We can take it slow.”
Those big blue eyes were examining me. “Is that what you usually do?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.” It didn’t seem to worry her. Solitaire looked around and sighed. “I’ve no idea if I’ve done this before. Isn’t that weird?”
Part of me hated the thought of anyone ever having touched her, which was really stupid and juvenile. The other part of me was curious. “What do you remember of the fuckers you’ve been with?”
Solitaire collapsed in giggles. “Talk about possessive!” Then she saw my face and hugged me. “You are sweet to care, Arturo.”
Sweet, really – she had no idea. If she gave me names, I might just take out some contracts.
“I remember being slapped about a lot but nothing in the bedroom,” Solitaire confessed. She smiled at me. “It’s kind of like being a virgin again, I guess.”
“I’ll do anything to make you happy.” The words ripped out of me.
“Think you’ll know when I hit my limit?”
“Just tell me to stop.”
“Is this the same man who told me ‘no safe words’?”
“You get safe words. Anything you want, Solitaire. Just name it.” That was my gut talking again. My brain wasn’t involved in this conversation at all. It was the right thing to say, though.
“I had a blast in England,” Solitaire sighed. “You lead, Arturo. To the limit and beyond it, right?”
She gave herself to me without reservation, and suddenly my hands were shaking.
Chapter Twelve: Solitaire
Dear lord, that dungeon! Black and red, leather and steel. It was a sight that went straight through me, paralyzing my lungs and making my insides clench with shivers that were equal parts fear and excitement. It was the scariest and most intoxicating place I’d ever been in. All right, seeing I wasn’t exactly overrun with memories, that might not mean much, but I was damn sure I’d never seen anything like this.
“Do you like it?”
Arturo was standing so close to me that I could feel the heat from his body on my skin. It was cool down here, not surprising considering we were underground and that there were no windows. No windows and no doors
– only that lift, tucked away in a corner behind a machine that looked like a rack. I was a million miles away from home, but that thing was straight from the Tower of London.
“It’s interesting.”
And just before, when Arturo had casually mentioned his flogger, my voice had gone squeaky again. Interesting? Who was I kidding? My insides were doing flip-flops, my face was turning pink, and I could hear myself begin to pant. Interesting, my arse. I was turned on as hell.
Arturo put his arms around me. The silk shirt he wore whispered against my skin while the warm solidity of his body underneath and the hooded look in those dark brown eyes were playing merry hell with my lungs, turning every breath into a gasp. A pulse began beating between my legs.
“Want to play?”
The soft words in my ear went straight to my clit, strangling my vocal chords on the way. “Gah.”
He took that as a yes, and I found myself hanging onto his shoulders, my knees entirely liquid as he undressed me. The fuchsia blouse that had cost a bomb in a little boutique in Oxford Street slid to the ground, followed by my jeans. I stood there, shivering with nerves and excitement, unable to look away from those dark eyes. The pulse between my legs was now drumming steadily.
He must have known that I’d fall to my knees if he let me go, because he held me up with one arm while running the ball of his thumb over the lacey cups of my bra, teasing the tightly puckered flesh underneath. The pulse turned into a tattoo.
“Sweet sirena.”
That hard mouth smiled and dipped, sucking lightly at the barbells beneath the thin material. I stood there, swaying as if intoxicated, every fibre of my being centred on that gentle touch. I couldn’t see, couldn’t move. The universe was filled with that touch.
His hands swept over my back, freeing my breasts, spilling them against those sweet sucking lips. The gentle touch became insistent, his teeth nipping my soft flesh, sending shivers of pleasure rushing through my body.
I hung in his arms, whimpering with desire. His arms slid around me, pulling my body hard against his. His lips sought mine, his tongue sweeping over my lips. A long drugging kiss, punctuated by his hands running over my back, running along my spine before sliding underneath the silk knickers, drenched now with my want.
“Corazón! Me vuelves loco!”
I was drowning in love, melting in his sweetness.
“I want you.” Chestnut eyes gazed into mine. “Possession,” he husked. “I need you, sirena.”
His hands moved again, pushing the thin silk of my knickers to join my bra on the floor. I leaned against him, feeling the cool air of the dungeon waft over my heated flesh. Drugged with desire, scarcely able to keep my eyes open, I was aware of his cock straining hot and hard against me. His breath was ragged. Arturo wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I leaned into him, kissing the warm taut skin rising from that soft silk shirt. His lemony scent tantalised and teased my senses. I could feel my heartbeat drumming in my nipples and clit.
“The flogger,” he murmured.
My body froze. I stopped breathing. I hung on him, suspended in time.
A gentle push, and I was facing a leather covered X-frame placed by a scarlet wall. He lifted my wrist, kissed it lightly and raised it high to the corner of the X, snapping it into a leather covered restraint. He kissed my other wrist, lifted it, and then I was leaning against the leather crossbeam, my arms spread wide and high above my head. A knee between my legs, and a few snaps, and I was spread out, locked in place.
He stood behind me, running his hands over my boobs, rolling the balls of his thumbs over the barbells in my nipples, blowing in my ears, and rubbing up against me with his straining cock, letting me feel how much he wanted me. I wanted him so badly that I heard myself whimpering.
“Not yet, sirena, not yet.”
A whisper of silk and the handkerchief he always carried in his pocket was tied around my eyes. My breath was coming out in short, sharp excited gasps. The drum between my legs was drowning in juices. Spread out and helpless, my body resting against the leather, I could just touch the wall with my forehead. It was padded, the soft leather cool against my skin.
He stepped back, and all I could hear was the blood thundering in my ears.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
He was back, trailing strands of soft suede over my shoulders. The flogger. I could see it in my mind’s eye: a long handle ending in a bunch of thin suede strips.
I couldn’t speak, but he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh and chuckled. “So ready,” he whispered. “So hot. So wet.” He stood back. “Here it comes.”
The first blow landed on my shoulders, the tails fanning out, thudding onto my skin. A second blow, slightly lower down, spread the warmth. It was like percussion massage, that warming tattoo of being beaten with the sides of the hands. It was relaxing yet invigorating.
He worked the flogger down my side, reaching all the way to my arse, and then, teasing, he avoided my thighs, and moved up the other side. By the time he reached my shoulders again, I was flooded with warmth, moaning continuously, revelling in the thud of the suede against my skin.
“We’ll turn it up a notch.”
I heard the words through a haze of delight. Then the flogger landed again, fiercer and faster. Before I could draw breath, it landed on the other side. One, two, one, two... With each intake of breath, another blow fell into place. I sensed he was sweeping the flogger in a figure of eight, bringing it down hard and bringing it back up with a curl of the wrist before driving it down again. The warmth was turning to fire, and I was singing, crying from pleasure, begging for more.
He worked his way up and down my back three times, and then stopped, leaving me ready to explode, dying for his touch, moaning for more.
“Not yet, sirena.”
I was almost weeping for him, kissing the hand that ran over my lips. He was pushing something against my forehead.
“And now, a game.” His voice was warm yet husky. I could feel his rod pushing into my back: huge, hard and hot despite his still being fully dressed.
I wanted him so badly that I was whimpering. “Please don’t stop. Please.”
He was laughing. “I’ll keep going, but you have to do your part.” He pressed something smooth, thin and hard against my forehead and leaned me against the wall. “Keep the coin against the wall. If it falls, I stop.” His lips were against my ear. “Don’t move, sirena. If you do, I’ll walk away and leave you.”
Now I was sweating, standing on tiptoe, straining to keep that coin in place, dying to feel the thud of the flogger, terrified he’d carry out his threat and leave me suspended on the cusp of release.
There was a pause and a whisper of silk. He was undressing, I could hear his clothes dropping to the floor. At the thought of what was to come next, I was quivering. Then the flogger swept through the air, landing with a thud across my shoulders again. A second thud landed on my arse, a few tails slinking down the insides of my thighs, teasingly close to my creaming centre. I yearned to lean into the next blow, but the coin held me in place. I knew I mustn’t move. I didn’t want this to stop.
“Brace yourself.”
The blows landed faster and faster, fanning the blaze across my body. He was working me over mercilessly now, the tails spreading over my body, each time curling between my legs, tipping me from delight to ecstasy. I could hear my wails echo around the room. I was shimmering and shuddering uncontrollably.
I’d forgotten the coin. All my concentration was focussed on the continuous thud of the flogger. It wasn’t enough to push me into release. It held me trembling on the edge, hovering on the rim of exquisite release. I was going nowhere without his touch, and he knew it. I could hear him laugh as I moaned and begged.
Finally, driven to despair, I lifted my head, crying for him to finish me. All at once he was behind me, his skin cool against my burning back. He was whispering in my ear, telling me how much he wanted me. The bonds held me in pla
ce, frustrating my efforts to get him inside me. While I keened with complaint and desire, I heard his laughter turned to gasping want.
He pushed his cock between my legs, rubbing it against my drenched flesh, teasing me until I was screaming. “Say please, sirena.”
“Pleeeeeeeeease!”
He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me slightly and then he was sliding into me. The feel of that hard hotness had me shimmering around his rigid flesh. His hands rubbed over my nipples, tugging, teasing and then slipped to my clit. A touch and I was screaming as the ripples of ecstasy flooded through me, augmented by the sound of his gasping breath in my ear and his iron hold on my body as he fucked me.
I hung there, supine, drowning in the sensation of his skin against mine, his scent surrounding me, and that pulsing cock slamming in and out of me. The motion had me gasping, and then I was quivering again, roiling back to the edge of orgasm. His breath was ragged now, his skin lava-hot as he once again drove me to the peak. He exploded inside me, the violence of his thrusts causing a final orgasm to rip through me.
“Amor de mi vida!” He was holding me tight, shuddering against me, stroking my hair and kissing my neck. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I was shattered, boneless. I could feel my forehead leaning against the wall but the rest of my body had vanished, evaporated in sated want.
I felt him holding me as the restraints clicked open, and then I was in his arms, being carried. There were soft sheets and low lights. I lay in the circle of his body, feeling as if I was sinking into him.
“Sirena, my sweet slut.” He was kissing me, running his hands over me and telling me how wonderful I was. I wanted more; I wanted kisses. The second I lifted my face, his lips were locked on mine. I melted again.
A million years later, he smoothed the blindfold away from my eyes. For once his in-control look had vanished. Arturo looked hot, sticky and sweaty, and he was grinning like a maniac.
